


Taking Care

by Robespierre



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Infantilism, M/M, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-16
Updated: 2013-08-16
Packaged: 2017-12-23 16:16:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/928558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Robespierre/pseuds/Robespierre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five words changed their lives: "Stiles, take care of Isaac."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Taking Care

**Author's Note:**

> This story goes AU halfway through episode 3.02. Derek asks Stiles to take Isaac home after Isaac comes out of the ice bath. 
> 
>  
> 
> Long story short, there is this evil woman in my weekend classes who openly mocks fanfiction and fanfiction writers. I've been writing this over the last three weekends during breaks in class so that I had something happy and sweet to think about instead of focusing on how much I want to punch this lady.

“Scott, Peter, and I will handle this.  Stiles, take care of Isaac.”

That was…that was not the plan that Stiles had been anticipating.  It made sense, though.  Isaac had emerged from the ice bath blue-lipped and trembling, and he had spoken so little in the last hour that it was clear that something was not right.

“Okay, dude, you’re coming with me,” he told Isaac, jokingly offering his arm. 

Stiles’ jaw nearly hit the floor when Isaac actually took him up on the offer.  Wow, Isaac must have been feeling _really_ bad to accept his help like that. 

They made their way toward the parking lot together, Isaac leaning heavily against him each step of the way.  Stiles had never before seen any of the werewolves react to injury like this.  Hell, he had seen some of them jump up and run off just minutes after their bones were broken, so Isaac’s weak, silent state was starting to freak him out. 

After buckling Isaac into the Jeep (he couldn’t even manage to buckle his own seat belt!), Stiles filled the silence with anything he could think of. 

“So I’m going to take you back to my house.  You need lots of blankets and some hot food, and you probably don’t have any of that back at werewolf HQ.  Anyway, my dad has night shift tonight, so it’s totally cool for you to stay.  You’re lucky – I even changed my sheets this morning, so you can just curl right up in my bed.  It’s pretty awesome.  Not too firm, not too soft.  Goldilocks would love it.  Oh my god, you’re Goldilocks!  You know, with the golden curls.  Too bad the story has three bears instead of three wolves, right?” 

“Stiles,” Isaac interrupted, his voice rough and only half its normal volume.  “Thank you.”

“Oh, no problem.  It’s not like I have this crazy social schedule that can’t accommodate – ” 

“Thank you but _please shut up_.”

The rest of the ride took just a few minutes, but the forced silence was unnerving.  It got even stranger as Stiles helped guide Isaac from the driveway up to his bedroom.  Isaac was making strange little whimpers with each step, and Stiles was starting to get really worried.  How was he supposed to “take care of Isaac” when he had no idea what was wrong with him or what to do about it?

He deposited Isaac on his bed and…just stood there.  What was he supposed to do?

“Okay, Isaac,” he said quietly, “those clothes that Deaton gave you are still kinda damp, and your hair is a little wet.  If I get you some new clothes, can you change?”

Isaac’s nod made Stiles feel a little better.  At least he wasn’t going to have to deal with a near-comatose werewolf. 

Then, genius struck.  “Hey, I have an idea.  Take your wet clothes off and wrap yourself up in this blanket.  I’ll be right back.”

Stiles grabbed sweatpants, socks, and a sweatshirt from his dresser drawers and headed for the laundry room.  If he put the clothes in the dryer for just a few minutes, it might help Isaac warm up.  He rummaged through the downstairs bathroom cabinet while the sweats tumbled in the laundry room.  He was sure that – yes, success!  He knew that he remembered seeing an old hairdryer under there.  Isaac needed all the warmth he could get. 

Realizing that getting Isaac warm was pretty much the only thing he could think of to do, he moved to the kitchen to look for some soup. 

Damn, no soup, just some gross old chicken broth.  What else?  Not reheated pizza, not a tv dinner, not vegetable lasagna – he was looking for comfort food, dammit.

Aha!  Hot chocolate. 

He heated a mug full of water in the microwave, dumped in the cocoa mix, stirred, and tossed the spoon in the sink.  Making a quick trip to the laundry room, he grabbed the clothes and attempted to balance clothing, hair dryer, and hot chocolate while climbing the stairs without dropping anything or burning himself. 

He had no time to congratulate himself when he finally reached his door, because he stopped short at the sight of Isaac.  He had done what Stiles had asked – there was a pile of clothing on the floor and he was wrapped in a blanket – but he looked _terrible_.  His lips were even bluer than they had been when he came out of that tub, his eyes were glassy, and his whole body was shaking. 

“Hey, hey,” he said softly, dumping the clothes on the floor and pressing the mug into Isaac’s hands.  Isaac was so shaky that he needed Stiles’ help to lift the mug to his lips. “C’mon, this will help you feel better.  You need to get warm.” 

With Stiles’ help, Isaac managed to drink the whole mug. 

“Thanks,” Isaac whispered, “that was good.” 

“No problem, man.  All right, let’s get you dressed.  I have clothes fresh from the dryer – they’re gonna feel awesome.”

Isaac didn’t move, except to wrap his hands a little tighter around the empty mug. 

“Do you need help?  I can do that.” 

Feeling more than a little uncomfortable, Stiles grabbed the socks and knelt at Isaac’s feet.  This wasn’t weird, right?  Just one dude helping another put on socks because one of them was currently acting like some kind of werewolf zombie.  Not weird at all.

He was pleased to note that Isaac’s feet weren’t as cold as he’d thought they were going to be. 

Stiles held out the sweatpants.  “A little help here?” 

Isaac didn’t respond. 

Shit.

Okay, he could do this.  He slid the sweatpants over Isaac’s feet and pushed them up as high as his knees. 

“Can you stand up for me?  Gotta pull these up if you want them to do any good.”

Again, Isaac didn’t respond.  In fact, he didn’t do _anything_.  He just sat and stared at the wall opposite the bed. 

Dammit.

Stiles did not want to spend the entire evening playing dress-up with a wolf, so he stood, grabbed Isaac under his arms, and pulled him up into a standing position.  The blanket covered him almost all the way to the floor, so Stiles didn’t have to get a face full of Isaac’s junk when he pulled the sweats up his legs.  With Isaac standing, it was easy to maneuver his arms into the sweatshirt, and – presto! – he had a fully-dressed werewolf. 

A fully-dressed werewolf who wasn’t moving or talking. 

“Let’s get you into bed, okay?” he asked as he guided Isaac to the center of his bed.  “I have a ton of blankets, so you’ll be all toasty-warm in no time.” 

Isaac’s eyes were drifting shut, but a fine tremor was still running through his body.  Stiles could feel it as he tucked Isaac into a blanket burrito.  What was he supposed to do?  He couldn’t ask Derek what was wrong – he and Scott were trying to find Boyd– and Mrs. McCall might have been a good nurse, but she certainly wasn’t a werewolf health expert. 

He guessed that he was doing everything he could.  Get Isaac warm, make sure he was comfortable – what else was there? 

“Stiles?”  Isaac interrupted his mini freak-out. 

“What’s up?  What can I do for you?”

“Stay with me?”

“Sure.  I’m just gonna get my laptop from downstairs and – ”

“No, stay here.  In bed.  Please?”

“Uh, sure.”

Weirder and weirder.  Sure, werewolf cuddles.  Why not?

Stiles shrugged and slid onto his narrow bed behind Isaac.  It took a little wiggling, but he finally managed to get comfortable by pressing the full length of his body against Isaac’s and flinging an arm over his heavily blanketed torso. 

He must have been more tired than he had realized, because after a few minutes, he was almost asleep.  In fact, he probably would have been asleep if it wasn’t for Isaac’s shaking. 

“Dude,” he whispered, not needing to speak loudly because his mouth was just inches from Isaac’s ear, “why are you still shaking?  You can’t be cold – you feel like a furnace.” 

“Not cold,” was Isaac’s oh-so-helpful answer. 

“Then what?”  Stiles was getting frustrated.  “Do you know what’s wrong with you?  Are you sick?  What can I do? 

“Not sick.  Just…upset.”

Okay, not what he expected to hear.  “Do you want to talk about it?” 

Isaac was silent for nearly a minute before he dropped his head down to his chest, as though he was making sure that Stiles couldn’t look at him while he spoke. 

“I screwed up.  I got caught and I couldn’t help Boyd and Erica.  And then I couldn’t even remember what happened.  And now you’re telling me that I told you that Erica is…that Erica is dead and this is all my fault!” Isaac finished, slightly hysterically. 

“No way,” Stiles told him firmly.  “That’s not how this works.  Dude, you were so brave.  You found them in that bank – you were the only person who was able to find them, by the way – and you tried to get them out.  It’s not your fault that the douchebag twins did their creepy transformer thing and went after you.  You let Peter stab you in the neck and you went willingly into that ice bath because you want to _help_.  You’re brave, and you care about people, and you did everything right.”

He didn’t even realize that he had started doing it, but by the time he finished speaking, his hands had wormed into Isaac’s blanket cocoon and were caressing his back and shoulders. 

Oh, shit.  Isaac was crying.  “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?  Don’t tell the truth?  Isaac, you don’t give yourself enough credit.  You are _awesome_.”

“Stop,” Isaac sobbed.   

“No.”  Going for broke, Stiles hugged Isaac as tightly as he could with one arm, and brought the other hand up to comb through Isaac’s hair.  Feeling profoundly out of his depth, Stiles tried to calm him. 

“Shh.  It’s okay.  You’re okay.  You’re so brave.  You did so good.  You did so good, buddy.” 

At that, Isaac’s whole body went stiff, then relaxed. 

“Really?” he whispered.

“Yeah, of course.  You did something that nobody else could do.  You _found_ them, Isaac.  You did so good.”

He didn’t even know what he was saying anymore, but if it was helping Isaac, he was going to keep saying it.  Stiles kept whispering – telling him how brave and smart and _good_ he was – until Isaac fell asleep.

Then he was presented with another problem.  Every time he tried to leave the bed, Isaac whimpered so pitifully that Stiles couldn’t stand to hear it.  After about an hour, he finally decided he couldn’t stand it any longer and gently pulled away from Isaac. 

Isaac whimpered and burrowed further into the nest of blankets.  When Stiles managed to escape from the bed, he was struck by just how…well, how _cute_ Isaac was.  He looked so much younger and more peaceful in sleep. 

Struck by yet another fit of Stilinski brilliance, he quietly opened his closet door and pulled down the stuffed bear that had been his constant companion between the ages of four and six.  Okay, four and eight.  All right, fine – four and fourteen.  But Barry the Bear was awesome!  He had soft brown fur and big black eyes and was just the perfect huggable size. 

He tucked the bear into Isaac’s arms, and Isaac instantly latched onto it. 

“Here you go, Goldilocks.  I brought you a bear.”

Stiles ran a hand through Isaac’s curls and climbed back into bed, suddenly not wanting to be anywhere else.   

* * *

The next morning, they awkwardly disentangled their limbs and blushed a little before Isaac murmured a “thank you” and was gone.  

* * *

Two weeks later, Stiles woke with that “oh shit, I’m not alone” feeling.  When his eyes finally adjusted to the dark, he saw Isaac crouched in the corner of the room. 

“What’s up?  Everything okay?”

When Isaac didn’t respond, Stiles wordlessly lifted his blankets and gestured for Isaac to scoot in next to him. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Isaac shook his head forcefully. 

“Okay, that’s fine.  Let’s just go to sleep, okay?”

When Isaac was still tense beside him ten minutes later, Stiles had an idea.  He left the bed for just a moment to grab Barry the Bear from his desk chair.  Isaac’s teeth flashed white in the dim light as he grabbed for the bear. 

“Anything for you, Goldilocks,” Stiles whispered.  “Now let’s go to sleep." 

* * *

The next time it happened, Stiles was studying for a literature test.  He had discovered years ago that the best way for him to study was to read aloud, so he was rereading their latest short story to his empty room.   

He had been reading for a few minutes when he noticed Isaac crouched just outside the window and motioned him in.  Isaac went immediately to the bed and stripped down to his boxers.  He grabbed Barry and slid under the covers. 

“Keep reading?” he asked shyly.

“Sure, Goldilocks.” 

* * *

The next day, a book of fairy tales appeared on his desk.  Isaac was back, snuggling in Stiles’ bed with Barry and asking for another story.

Stiles wasn’t stupid, but he had absolutely no idea what was going on.   

* * *

He woke up with Isaac pressed against him, even though he had gone to bed alone. 

“What’s wrong, Isaac?”

Isaac whimpered, and Stiles immediately wrapped him up in a hug. 

“Don’t wanna,” Isaac mumbled. 

“Don’t want to what, buddy?”

“Don’t wanna be Isaac,” he said, pressing his face against Stiles’ neck. 

 _What?_ Stiles was in so far over his head. 

“Okay,” he said slowly, sinking his fingers into the curls on the back of Isaac’s head.  “Goldilocks?”

Isaac sighed, all of the tension draining from his body. 

“Where’s Barry?”

Stiles laughed and tucked the bear into Isaac’s arms.   

 _What the hell was going on?_

* * *

Unsurprisingly, doing an Internet search for “why does my werewolf friend want me to call him Goldilocks?” proved useless.  Isaac was acting so strange – he responded well to names like “buddy” and “Goldilocks,” he wanted to snuggle with Barry the Bear, and he needed to be cuddled to fall asleep. 

He and Isaac were going to have to talk. 

But of course they didn’t.  Stiles just couldn’t bring it up. 

So he chose the coward’s way out: texting.

**_Serious question for you, okay?_ **

_Okay_

**_What’s been going on between us lately?  I don’t mind at all.  I just want to know what’s up._ **

_I don’t know how to explain_

**_Can you try?  Like I said, I don’t mind.  I kind of like it.  I just want to make sure I don’t do anything wrong._ **

_I just feel really comfortable with you.  Safe._

**_I’ll keep you safe.  I promise._ **

_I know._

Well, that didn’t help at all.  

* * *

In school, everything was normal.  It wasn’t like Isaac was dragging Barry to lacrosse practice.  But as soon as they were alone in Stiles’ bedroom, Isaac was Goldilocks.  Barry now lived on Stiles’ bed, and there were two pillows where there used to be just one. 

Things finally started to make sense on Isaac’s birthday. 

The look on his face when Stiles handed him two gift-wrapped boxes was so happy and so hopeful that Stiles wished he had camera.  The gifts weren’t much – just a stuffed wolf and a new book of fairy tales – but Isaac clutched them to his chest like they were the most precious things in the world. 

It must have been almost five full minutes before Isaac finally looked up at Stiles, eyes shining with unshed tears, and said, “Thank you.  Thank you so much.  I love them.” 

Stiles knelt to hug him and ruffle his hair.  “No problem.  Hey, I’m going to get something to eat.  You hungry?” 

Isaac nodded, so Stiles headed downstairs to the kitchen to put together some sandwiches.  He was only gone for a few minutes, but when he returned to his room, Isaac was gone. 

“Goldilocks?” he called out, feeling more than a little silly.  “Where are you?”

Isaac’s head popped up from the far side of the bed.  “Back here,” he said.

Stiles plopped on the bed, bringing the sandwiches with him.  “What’re you doing down there?”

Isaac was holding Barry and his new wolf.  “Playing.” 

Stiles had never seen Isaac this happy before.  It was almost like they were little kids again, like they had never heard of Derek Hale or werewolves or kanimas or Alpha packs.

Almost like they were little – _oh_. 

Isaac was acting like a little kid when he was with Stiles.  The names, the bear, the cuddles – Stiles’ room was a place where Isaac felt safe enough to forget about the ever-present werewolf politics.  A space where he could lay down all of his responsibilities and just be taken care of.  By Stiles. 

Stiles was, well, _honored_ to be able to do this for Isaac. 

“Can I play?” he asked, moving to sit next to Isaac on the floor. 

“Sure!”  Isaac grinned and thrust Barry at him.   

* * *

Now that he knew what Isaac wanted, Stiles was more than willing to give it to him.  He bought a whole drawer full of stuffed animals, he cut the crusts off of Isaac’s sandwiches, he bought coloring books and crayons, and he dug out his collection of Disney DVDs.  Though they didn’t have much time to spend together, whenever Isaac found time to be in Stiles’ bedroom, he was Goldilocks.    

He was surprised by how much he liked taking care of his Goldilocks.  Sure, he tried to take care of his dad, but there was only so much he could do for a man who was twenty-five years older than him.  He could harass him about his food choices and make sure he got enough sleep and exercise, but that was about it. 

Taking care of Isaac made him happy.  Knowing that somebody needed him, not for his research skills or to be the token human, but just for him – it was a powerful thing.  It felt good to have somebody depend on him.   

* * *

Senior year was rough for both of them.  Things were relatively calm on the supernatural front, but there was so much homework and studying that Isaac was forced to just be Isaac for weeks at a time.

But more time spent as Isaac gave the two of them the opportunity to really get to know each other.  By that point, Scott had pretty much abandoned Stiles for Allison, but having Isaac around allowed Stiles to almost forget about his erstwhile best friend.  He discovered that Isaac was sweet, loyal, funny, and a good listener.      

So of course Stiles did the dumbest thing possible. 

He fell in love.    

One night, lying in bed with his arms wrapped around a sleeping Goldilocks, it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to press a kiss to his friend’s forehead and whisper, “I love you, you know.” 

Fuck, it was confusing.  He loved his Goldilocks, but he was _in love_ with Isaac. 

He didn’t sleep at all that night. 

* * *

Making it through the entire school day without falling asleep had been torture, so the first thing he did upon returning home was fall into bed for a long nap.      

When he woke up, Goldilocks was sitting next to him, plucking idly at some loose fur on one of Barry’s feet. 

“Hey, Stiles,” he said. 

Oh, wait – it was Isaac. 

“Hey, man.  What’s up?”

Isaac was silent.

“You okay?  Is there anything I can do for you?”

“No,” Isaac said firmly, then shook his head.  “Well, yeah.  I guess.  Listen, I don’t really know how to say this.  I wanted to…I mean I need to…shit, I…”

He shook his head again.  “Okay.  So.  I was awake.  Last night.” 

“Okay?”  Stiles had no idea what he was talking about. 

“Stiles, I heard what you said.”  Isaac’s fingers never stopped moving through Barry’s fur.  “Do you really love me?”

For just a moment, Stiles considered lying, or at least downplaying his feelings.  But the hope in Isaac’s voice, combined with everything they had been through together and the fact that it was _Isaac_ who was asking – he had to tell the truth.

“Yeah.  I do.”  His voice was rough, partly from sleep and partly from fear at what might happen when Isaac heard what he had to say.  “I do, but this is so messed up.  It’s not like we can be some normal couple – I mean, I _like_ what we do together, I like taking care of you, but I don’t want you to get confused because of how Goldilocks feels.  It’s gotta be so complicated trying to figure out what _your_ feelings for me are, and I’d never want to take advantage of you or make you feel like you – ”  

“Stiles,” Isaac interrupted, “shut up.”  He took one of Stiles’ hands in both of his.  “This last year could have been terrible, but it’s been the best year of my life.  You gave me exactly what I needed, and I can never thank you enough for it.  I didn’t want to say anything before because I didn’t want to scare you away, but when I heard you say it last night, I…I’ve loved you for so long.”

Stiles froze, hardly able to believe what he was hearing.  But what about –

As if reading his mind, Isaac assured him, “Every part of me loves you, dumbass.”

It was Isaac who leaned in to press their lips together in what started as a chaste kiss but quickly became heated.  They only separated when they had to, both gasping for air.  Isaac dropped his head to Stiles’ chest and asked, “Did I…was that okay?”

“Yeah,” Stiles told him, “yeah, buddy, it was so good.”

They both froze. 

Shit!  This was Isaac he was talking to, not Goldilocks.  Had he screwed things up already?   

A small smile bloomed across Isaac’s face, and he let out a tiny giggle. 

It was the most beautiful sound Stiles had ever heard. 

“This is gonna be a little weird, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Isaac agreed.  “But we’ll figure it out.” 

 Stiles grinned.  “Good.  Kiss me again.” 

* * *

Movement and noise woke Stiles in the middle of the night. 

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yup.  I just dropped Barry.”

He wasn’t sure whether the body tucking itself against his was Goldilocks or Isaac.  But he was pretty sure that it didn’t matter. 

 


End file.
